


it's not everyday

by landofpromise



Category: Men's Hockey RPF
Genre: Alternate Universe - Not Hockey Player(s), M/M, Meet-Cute, kind of
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-29
Updated: 2018-10-29
Packaged: 2019-08-07 06:38:15
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,941
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16403207
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/landofpromise/pseuds/landofpromise
Summary: Naz’s phone buzzes in his pocket. He pulls his phone out of his pocket to find a text from an unknown number. It’s a wordy message, and Naz almost deletes it when he sees what he’s been looking for.Cat.Hello! I got this number from your cat Jazzy. I just want to make sure she is not lost only visiting. He is currently playing in my front yard.





	it's not everyday

**Author's Note:**

> underage drinking mentions in the beginning

**2009**

 

John’s billet brother threw parties all the time. John's not used to that, no regular Sunday dinner, parents being out on a Saturday night. He’s just not used to it being so  _ quiet _ . It’s weird, but it’s normal down here, and he’s not going to isolate himself any further. 

 

It’s been two hours into the party, and it seems to be making no moves of stopping. He wants to get up early and play some NHL 09 before his billet brother, and hungover friends wake up. 

 

He brushes his teeth with no interruptions, thankfully no one came upstairs (they usually do), and walks down the hall to his room. His room is at the end of the hall, or the beginning?, adjacent to the steps. 

 

His door is closed. John pauses. He almost lifts his arm to knock before realizing it is  _ his _ room, and it doesn’t matter if his billet brother has been throwing parties longer than John’s lived there, it’s still his room.

 

He opens the door loudly. 

 

It’s dark, minus the light the follows in from the hallway, and it carefully highlights two dudes’ faces. He knows them, one’s in his history class and is his  _ teammate _ , the other is in his biology class, who’s always lab partners with the same two guys. And, they’re kissing. 

 

Nazem is excellent, his teammate, is a jerk. 

 

That’s when John hears voices and the sounds of socks running up the steps. As the voices get closer, he can listen to the group of guys more clearly. They're Nazem’s friends. John quickly closes the door behind him. 

 

“Naz, we gotta go,” one of them lazily drawls. He’s so drunk he can barely climb up, gripping tightly onto the railing. 

 

“He’s probably with some chick,” another suggests. “Wasn’t he eying Cindy when we got here?”

 

“You’re not allowed up here,” John croaks. His voice is raspy and weak, from being silent the whole night. 

 

Dude 1 eyes John curiously. “Is Kadri up here? Short? Trying to grow a miserable beard?”

 

“No,” John lies.

 

“Where the fuck did he go?” Dude 2 sounds exasperated. 

 

They make their way down the stairs and the wave of relief that washes over John is immediate. Fuck. He doesn’t know why he’s caping so hard for a guy who was in his room without permission, but his grandma said he’s sweet.

 

When he opens back his door again, figuring out how he’s gonna kick these two guys out, there’s only Nazem. 

 

“He jumped out the window,” Nazem explains, after five minutes of John looking in the corners of his room to find a 6’2” adolescent male. 

 

“It’s -10 degrees out,” John frowns. “Without the windchill.”

 

“He’s weird,” Nazem shrugs. 

 

“Okay,” John sighs. “So, this is my room?”

 

Nazem looks at John for a moment before springing up from the mattress. “Sorry, he said it was his friend’s room.” He pats his back jeans pocket before pulling out his phone. 

 

“Ugh shit, it’s late,” Nazem says. He pats John’s shoulder in the dark. “Thanks.”

 

“For what?” 

 

“For lying,” Nazem explains. “I, uh, I’m not sure what’s going on right now and I don’t need my friends knowing, yet.”

 

John isn’t sure if he’s talking about the guy or what Nazem was doing with said guy. It’s not his business anyway. 

 

“No problem,” John says. He’s tired, and he’s grateful that Nazem doesn’t waste any more time talking to him. 

 

**2018**

 

Naz almost forgets to close his front door shut before rushing to crash into the couch. He lies there with his face smashed into the pillow for a moment before realizing something is wrong. There’s no meowing for pets, there’s no one climbing on the arm of the couch to get a good look at him and sniff him after a day of work. He squints, before lifting his head up to look around the living room. It’s creepy. 

 

Jazzy is missing. 

 

Naz stands up immediately. He sucks his teeth in the way that he knows will have Jazzy coming toward him, but nothing. He doesn’t have a big place, just a studio with a den, there’s no way she could be really  _ hiding _ . Oh fuck, he lost her. 

 

See, she gets scared sometimes, by little things, like her own shadow. And she runs, and sometimes Naz leaves just his screen door closed, and there may be a tiny hole in the corner. But, she’s  _ never _ done that before. Naz really should’ve prepared for this as a parent. He should call his sister for advice, seriously.

 

Fuck. 

 

Naz’s phone buzzes in his pocket. He pulls his phone out of his pocket to find a text from an unknown number. It’s a wordy message, and Naz almost deletes it when he sees what he’s been looking for. 

 

_ Cat _ . 

 

_ Hello! I got this number from your cat Jazzy. I just want to make sure she is not lost only visiting. He is currently playing in my front yard. _

 

Naturally, Naz is more worried than reassured. He immediately texts the person back,  _ Can I get a name and address? _

 

 _John, you live next door to me_ , comes no more than ten seconds later. It’s as if this John guy was waiting for the phone.  

 

_ How do you know that _

 

_ Uh? The same way I got your phone number? _

 

Right, Naz’s mom said it would be useful and easier to find Jazzy in case she gets lost, because, you know, pets tend to do that. His sister said it was stupid as hell, and that he’d probably get himself killed one day, but hey, he’s a momma’s boy. 

 

_ Sorry. U home?  _

 

_ Yes.  _

 

_ I’m just gonna...go get her ?  _

 

_ Okay. See you. _

 

It’ll take Naz less than a second to get to his neighbour’s door, so Naz decides to go change into something more comfortable. A white t-shirt and basketball shorts, that is. Classic. 

 

When he knocks on his neighbour’s door, the door opens immediately. Did this person leave it unlocked?

 

Naz looks at the person. Like  _ really  _ looks at him and  _ whoa _ . 

 

“I knew your name was familiar,” John  _ Tavares _ says. 

 

“What are you doing  _ here _ ?” Naz asks.

 

“I live here?” John chuckles. “Do you want to come in? Jazzy finally came inside.”

 

“Sure,” Naz says, adding on a quiet  _ thank you _ , when John moves to let Naz in.

 

The last time Naz saw John Tavares was at an old friend’s wedding, five years ago, but he wasn’t  _ this  _ hot. 

 

Suddenly, Naz is acutely aware of the fact that he’s wearing a ratty shirt and shorts he’s had since undergrad. He’s exceptionally undressed, and John, John’s shirt is too tight. 

 

John Tavares, was a kid that Naz went to high school with. The last Naz had heard of him, he was getting ready to be drafted into the NHL. They never really knew each other, he moved halfway through their final school year and never really talked to anyone. Naz remembers when John gave him water once at a party he’d gotten too drunk at. That’s it. 

 

“Dude, what have you been up to?” Naz says once he slips his slides off on John’s shoe mat. 

 

“College, in New York, then teaching for a bit until I got homesick,” John shrugs. 

 

“Wait, so, you’re not a hockey player?”

 

John pauses. “No. I got injured, it’s uh, a long story.”

 

“Oh, man” Naz frowns. “Sorry to hear that.”

 

“It’s alright, I like teaching a lot,” John waves a hand. “Wait, you don’t watch hockey?”

 

“During the playoffs at bars,” Naz says sheepishly. “Sports aren’t really my thing.”

 

“Oh?” John says, “What’s your thing?”

 

“Music mostly,” Naz shrugs. “Doing my masters in social work.” 

 

“Cool,” John says. He’s about to say something else, but a tiny cat appears, trying to climb up Naz’s leg.

 

“Hey,” Naz laughs at Jazzy’s meowing. “Did I wake you up?”

 

He leans down to pet her head, and she begins to purr. Naz loves her. A sweet little thing. 

 

“I’m shocked you didn’t have any trouble with her,” Naz says, scratching between Jazzy’s ears. “She hates people.”

 

“Oh, I did,” John widens his eyes. “But being a high school teacher taught me a few things.”

 

“Teenagers and rescue kittens are two very different things,” Naz says. “But I respect your hustle.”

 

“Thanks,” John says. “So, um, what are you up to next week?”

 

Naz blinks. “School.” 

 

“Anything else,” John eyes Naz patiently. 

 

Naz pauses. Is John asking him out on a date? He doesn’t understand how lucky he got. 

 

“Yeah, uh, I’m free next week,” Naz smiles.

 

“Cool,” John says. “I already have your number, so…” 

 

“That’s good,” Naz says, he looks at John’s front door. “I gotta go grade some quizzes, though.” 

 

“As do I,” John says. “I remember being a TA. That was fun.”

 

“I hope it gets fun,” Naz shrugs. “Come on, Jazzy, I bet you miss your cave.”

 

Jazzy stays put, looking at Naz with big, round, cute eyes that may have worked six months ago but definitely don’t work now. She must have really taken a liking to John. He just stares at her right back, until she finally stands on all fours.

 

“I’ll text you?” John sounds hesitant.

 

“Yes,” Naz says immediately. “And I’ll answer.” 

 

If Naz could, he’d hit himself right now.  _ Of course _ , he’s gonna answer the message.

 

Jazzy’s all over him when they get back to his apartment, which he’s glad. He needs her cuddles at the end of the day or else the world will turn upside down, as it almost did.

 

\-- 

The coffee shop isn’t as full as it usually is on a Sunday morning, which is good, because Naz doesn’t have to settle for the banana muffins because the carrot muffins are so popular. His friend, Mo, is out with him, catching up after Mo spent the summer in BC the whole time, with weddings and whatnot. They’re at that age, yeah.

 

“Jake and I are getting married,” Mo says and Naz hits his knee on the underside of the table. 

 

He locks his phone and shoves it in his back pocket. “That’s great!”

 

“I lied,” Mo says just as serious. 

 

Naz frowns. “Why would you lie about that? Don’t play with my heart.”

 

“I’ve been talking for five minutes and you haven’t looked up from your phone once,” Mo nags. “Who’s texting you?”

 

“My friend,” Naz says. “We went to high school together.”

 

“Oh,” Mo says. “What’s his name?”

 

“John Tavares,” Naz says.

 

“Can I see what John looks like?” Mo quirks a brow.

 

Naz splutters. “No?”

 

“Alright,” Mo picks his phone up from where it’d been facing down. Naz is confused, he’s not sure if this is Mo’s new way of indicating he’s done with the conversation.  

 

“Is John a teacher?” Mo asks.  

 

“Yeah,” Naz frowns. “How’d you know?”

 

“He’s hot,” Mo comments.

 

“How do you—“ Mo flashes what looks like John’s Facebook profile. Naz hasn’t even had the chance to search him up  _ yet.  _

 

“Creep,” Naz says with no real heat. He’s definitely looked up Mo’s potential partners before. That’s what good friends do.

 

“So you guys are more than just friends,” Mo wonders aloud. “You wouldn’t  _ just  _ be friends for a guy who’s your type.”

 

“Just friends,” Naz corrects ominously. “... For now.”

 

Mo looks at him curiously. “Oh?”

 

“He asked me out to dinner,” Naz offers casually. “I don’t know.”

 

“Have you guys flirted?” 

 

“No,” Naz whines. 

 

“He sent a selfie this morning,” Mo comments. He’s scrolling through the messages Naz and John have been sending back and forth. Naz hates him. He snatches his phone when Mo’s grip gets  _ just _ a little lax. 

 

Naz remembers it. It was a blurry mirror picture, something about photo day at the high school. He was wearing a tie; apparently his boss said it was mandatory. Naz could tell John wasn’t the type to regularly take photos of himself like Naz and his group of friends. It’s cute, John’s practically born in the wrong century or something. 

 

“Does he dress like that all the time?” Mo asks.

 

Naz blinks. He’s only ever seen John in dress shirt and loungewear. He has no clue how John dresses, and you never know when it comes to how douchey guys in Toronto can get. “I guess we’ll see this Thursday.”

 

“I’m going for nerdy,” Mo says. “But, hey, I’m happy for you.”

 

“Nothing has even happened yet,” Naz snorts. “But okay.”

 

“You’re lonely as hell,” Mo points out. “If you could, you’d adopt more pets.”

 

“What’s wrong with that?” Naz asks. “Animals are great, you know this.”

 

“It’s better to cuddle a hot dude on Sundays than it is to cuddle a cat,” Mo insists.

 

\--

“Why didn’t you just go to Western?” Mitch asks. “It’s a great school.”

 

Naz looks up from the game of Connect Four he’d been playing with Mitch. Naz wants to make it clear, he’s helping with Mitch’s concentration, and they’re  _ not  _ buddies. He just happens to be Mitch’s favourite TA or something.

 

“Not my scene,” Naz shrugs. “Plus, the city of Toronto, you know?” 

 

Mitch nods seriously. “Yeah, Toronto’s pretty great. Your turn.”

 

“What about you?” Naz asks. “Why here?” 

 

“My parents want me close to home,” Mitch tells him. “But I still love Toronto.”

 

Naz hums. His smile grows a few seconds later after he’s beat Mitch at this round. He’s been slacking this week, distracted by all sorts of things. “It’s a good thing you stayed in Toronto, you wouldn’t have met what’s his name.”

 

Naz knows his last name, that’s all truly, he’s bumped into the guy a handful of times to know his name, it’s a shame. Though, Naz likes to watch Mitch get all shy about it, considering he’s not necessarily shy about  _ anything _ . It’s a great contrast that should be studied.

 

“You know his name,” Mitch rolls his eyes, but there’s a faint blush on his cheeks. “Can we play cards?”

 

Naz is about to say yes, but remembers he doesn’t have much time. He checks his watch, it’s about 5:00, and thanks to Toronto traffic, it should take John another fifteen minutes to get here. He looks at Mitch. “One game.”

 

Mitch wins the game. Naz almost tries to goad him into a second game when his phone vibrates with a text notification.  _ Im at the corner of victoria street _

 

“Oh, I gotta go,” Naz stands up.

 

“Your uber outside?” Mitch looks up at him.

 

“My date,” Naz corrects. 

 

Naz leaves a very curious Mitch in the common area as he swiftly makes his way through a crowd of students all gossiping and doing no homework, university life. John told Naz his car was new, got a sweet deal on it, but he hadn’t realized it was  _ that  _ new. It’s nice and Naz feels almost ashamed for putting his ripped jeans on the seat, but John was the one who told him to dress like he usually would. John honks the car when they make eye contact, even though Naz can literally see him. 

 

“You wear loafers on a regular day?” Naz asks when he looks over John’s outfit.

 

John looks down at his shoes and laughs. “I was in a rush, one of my student’s wanted extra help on her essay topic.” 

 

“Oh,” Naz notes that John  _ does _ , in fact, dress like a nerd. A whole combination of clothing that doesn’t go together but it’s endearing, and he looks good no matter what he wears.

 

“So, I wanna take you to a place I used to get burgers from as a kid,” John starts as he puts his car in drive. “Then we can see a movie, go out for drinks?”

 

“Movie sounds good,” Naz says quickly. It’s better if he doesn’t drink on their first date.

The burger place is packed, but Naz isn’t shocked, it’s a Friday and school and sports season is in. He doesn’t go to this part of Toronto often, only for specific errands and foods, but he’s still never heard of this burger joint. 

 

“Is it always this busy?” Naz asks, leaning into John. Of course with crowds comes noise, and Naz hates having to yell.

 

John nods. “Pretty much. My friend and I used to go here every week though, even if it was out of our way.”

 

“I bet your friend must be happy you’re back, now,” Naz smiles. 

 

“For the summer’s yeah,” John looks a little wistful. “He’s in Nashville for work.” 

 

“Oh,” Naz says. Naz has never heard of anyone from Toronto going Nashville for work. “Good money down there?”

 

John looks at Naz and flashes him a smile. “You don’t even know.” He has really nice teeth, good dentists down in Long Island or something.

 

The food finally comes, and John suggests that they go eat it in the car on the way downtown, but Naz remembers John’s shiny new car and god if he doesn’t want this evening to be perfect. 

 

John is a history teacher. He’s always been into history, and there was never a doubt in his mind that’s what he wanted to study. That’s what he tells Naz. Though John shares he’s not sure if he wants to just be a  _ high school  _ teacher for the rest of his career. 

 

Naz admires the consistency. Naz’s first year in university was general education, followed by business which made his parents extremely happy, followed by a ‘ _ what do you really want?’ _ meeting with his academic advisor. Sure, he graduated a little bit later than everyone else, but at least he’s happy where he’s at, right?

 

The temperature’s dropped a little bit from the time they were inside the restaurant, but Naz likes this, the weeks before the highs and lows of the day are way too far apart. It’s good right now. The breeze feels calming, but it stills reminds Naz he should probably start carrying his leather jacket around with him. 

 

“How did your friends in New York feel about the move?” 

 

Naz watches John freeze. “Uh, they weren’t too happy.”

 

Naz frowns. He gets it, he’s had friends move away before, but they always made time throughout the years to hang out. 

 

John continues. “Most of them were, uh, were my ex’s friends? And I never really confirmed I was moving to Toronto until I  _ moved _ .”

 

“Sides always are taken,” Naz says sympathetically. 

 

“Yeah,” John sniffs. “My ex and I… we were having trouble. And I missed Toronto and I just… needed to get out.”

 

“Understandable.”

 

There’s a lot of traffic, Naz assumes that they’re going to miss the original movie they had wanted to see, the theatre will probably be full anyway. 

 

“I didn’t even know if I was going to stay,” John tells him. “Spent July and the most of August in my parent’s basement.”

 

The movie’s funny, although, Naz doesn’t remember the title. It was a rom-com, one of Naz’s favourite genres, although John had muttered he would have much rather seen an action movie. Naz does catch John laughing at certain points, he even almost knocks over the small bag of popcorn that they were sharing. 

 

Naz automatically turns right when they leave the movie theatre, to start his regular walk home. 

 

“Where are you going?” John grabs his arm.

 

Naz blinks. “I can walk home.”

 

“We live in the same building,” John says hesitantly. “A two-minute drive in a warm car versus a five-minute walk in single-digit windy weather?”

 

Naz flushes. “I’m an idiot.”

 

“You’re  _ tired, _ ” John corrects. “I saw you yawning throughout the movie.”

 

“I am,” Naz agrees. “I barely slept last night.”

 

“Papers?” 

 

Naz nods. “Not mine, though.” 

 

“Oh, grad school,” John sighs. 

 

“It’s the worst,” Naz complains. It’s not, but he’s being whiny about it because he can be. And also his mom and dad will come down and finish his laundry for him if complains about his workload often enough.

 

They live on the eleventh floor, down the end of the hall to their left as they get off the elevator. Naz is dreading walking to his own door. It was a good night, but Naz feels like he’s not even scratched the surface of who John Tavares is and he’s craving another chance to know more. It’s super quiet for a while, and Naz is a little worried they’re not on the same page. 

 

“Hey,” calls John’s quiet voice.

 

Naz spins around, and John crowds him on the wall. “Hi.”

 

“Did you have fun?” John asks.

 

“Yeah,” Naz swallows. “Did you?”

 

“Yeah, it was-- it was good,” John smiles. “You’re fun.”

 

Naz snorts at the compliment, but he feels himself blushing nonetheless. “Thanks.”

 

“I’m gonna kiss you now,” John tells him.

 

Naz is about to say, ‘ _ I know, _ ’ but he’s cut off with a kiss. Naz regrets adding double onions to his burgers at this point, but it’s too late, and his fingers are bunched up in the hem of John’s shirt and then there’s the sound of someone’s door unlocking and the feeling of John pulling away. 

 

“Suzie,” the woman poking her head of the door says into her phone. “I think you’re on the wrong floor, I don’t see you.”

 

She hums as she listens to  _ Suzie  _ on the other line, when she notices Naz and John. Naz still has his hands gripping John’s shirt and John’s still sort of leaning over Naz. 

“Hi, you two!” the woman says before promptly closing her door.

 

“People in Toronto mind their own business,” Naz explains.

 

“Much has changed,” John laughs.

 

\--

A week and a half later, they’re on Naz’s couch, the movie they barely paid attention to has just finished and John’s lips are still shiny. Jazzy’s napping on her own bed, surprisingly, after being terribly hyper around John and pretty much hogging all his attention. 

 

No, Naz is not jealous of a cat.

 

“Do you know Isaac Allen?” John asks suddenly. 

 

Naz thinks for a moment. “Doesn’t ring a bell, no.”

 

“He was part of my billet family when I was in London,” John explains. “He threw parties all the time.”

 

“I remember him, now,” Naz says. Naz didn’t talk much to anyone besides his two best friends and sometimes a handful of people he’d run into at parties if he were drunk enough.

 

“Remember when you were making out with some dude in my room?”

 

Naz sits up suddenly. “I do  _ not _ .”

 

“It was nine years ago,” John says. “You didn’t want your friends to know.”

 

“How’d you react?” Naz asks, curious.

 

“I was…” John pauses. “To be honest, I just wanted to go to sleep and you guys were in my way.”

“Thought you were gonna say you had some massive crush on me or something,” Naz pouts, all pretend upset. 

 

“Hockey was my life,” John scoffs. “And I didn’t have my sexual awakening until junior year.”

 

Naz stands up. “No way.”

 

John looks embarrassed. “I know.”

 

Naz feels himself go soft. He sits back down on the little space that John had managed to corner him into. “You’re just… really hot.”

 

“I never said no one wanted me in university,” John says, pointedly looking at the TV where Netflix is suggesting to start a show that has nothing to do with the documentary they just watched.

 

“Oh?” Naz smiles. “Do tell.”

 

“Maybe when I’m drunk,” John snorts. “I was just awkward as hell. Couldn’t tell if someone was flirting with me or if they thought I could help them with something.”

 

“I’ve been flirting with you for a week, now,” Naz starts. “Can you tell?”

 

John rolls his eyes. “No, can you try a little harder?”

  
  


**Author's Note:**

> in the house we love jazzy kadri, the london knights and john tavares :)


End file.
